


here, with me

by redluxite (wordstruck)



Series: VLD One-Shots [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Sheith Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12933561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstruck/pseuds/redluxite
Summary: For a moment, Keith just watches them both, and thinks, this is real. Both of them, Shiro and Aya, they’re real and they’re here, this love is real. All of this -- Shiro in the middle of the night, humming the song from Tarzan to quiet Aya down when he cries; Aya taking her first steps towards him, small hands reaching for him, tiny babbling noises; coming home to Shiro and Aya taking a nap in their bed, Shiro snoring softly and Aya drooling -- all of this is real. And he gets to keep it in his life.Or, a short ficlet where Shiro, Keith, and a little girl make up a family.





	here, with me

**Author's Note:**

> [@shrkgn](https://twitter.com/shrkgn) Tweeted a thing about Sheith and their child and I took [our whole thread](https://twitter.com/shrkgn/status/938433698596130816) and wrote it into a ficlet because happy feelings, and because Keith and Shiro deserve happiness. It's all very indulgent fluff but I don't care. Unbeta'd because I wrote it in less than half an hour.

* * *

 

 

Some things Keith remembers, early on a Thursday morning:

Growing up, he’d hated mornings. Always too loud, when he’d been at the orphanage, too many children running around and banging things. Too many people in too small a space, and he never did fit in. Picked too many fights, got into too many accidents; skipped class too many times to go up on the roof and just lie there in the afternoon sun.

Foster homes weren’t much better. One family had two small children who needed help getting ready for school, so Keith was often left to his own devices and toast for breakfast. The next family tried, they did, but by then Keith had been branded a problem child and couldn’t separate sincerity from mockery.

_ (You don’t need to keep picking a fight with the world on your own,  _ says a voice in his mind, a little exasperated and a little fond.)

But now it’s 8am, and Keith sits up in bed, stretching. The other side of the blankets is thrown back and rumpled; the mattress empty. But Keith doesn’t have to look; the sound of laughter tells him where to go.

From the doorway, Keith watches Shiro swing their adopted daughter around in the air; listens to Aya as she shrieks in laughter, chubby little hands reaching out to Shiro as he lifts her up. The apartment smells like coffee and fried rice. The early morning sunlight streams through the curtains. Shiro’s laughing too as he pulls Aya in to blow a raspberry on her tummy, spin them both in circles across the tiny living room.

(Everything he didn’t have, everything he’d lost when his father had died and his mother had walked out of his life; everything he was so scared he’d never have, wasn’t sure he deserved.)

Shiro looks up and his smile when he sees Keith is like sunshine, and his expression is soft in a way that makes Keith’s breath catch. He jostles Aya a little, points to where Keith is standing, and Aya beams at Keith, reaching those small hands out to him. And Shiro looks back to Keith with so much in his eyes that it’s overwhelming.

(And what Keith doesn’t know: that Shiro had woken up, looking at Keith mumbling in his sleep, hair a riot on the pillow, Aya sleeping softly between them. That Shiro had just  _ looked  _ at them both, reaching out with his prosthetic arm to brush the hair away from Keith’s eyes, and his heart had felt so full. That Shiro looks at them both and thinks that this, too, was something he never thought he’d have, was something he didn’t deserve to have, but Keith had given him everything anyway.)

_ “Keef!”  _ Aya shrieks happily, squirming in Shiro’s arms to try to get him to put her down. He does, gently, but she stumbles a little anyway in her haste to get to Keith. She throws her arms around Keith’s legs and steps all over his feet. Keith snorts a laugh as he picks her up, cradles her against his chest. Tiny fingers come up to play with his hair, one of her favorite things.

“Sorry,” Shiro says, coming over to them and running a hand through his hair, a little apologetic. “Did we wake you?”

Keith shakes his head, leans in when Shiro ducks his head for a kiss. “I needed to get up anyway.”

“Mm.” Shiro kisses the top of Keith’s head and moves to the kitchen. “And we both need to eat.”

“Eat!” Aya echoes, throwing her hands in the air. Keith grins and play-bites at her nose, making her shriek again.

“Yes, eat,” he repeats, carrying her over to her high chair. He buckles her in as Shiro puts the fried rice into two bowls, puts Aya’s baby food in her special bowl (the kind that suctioned to the surface, which Shiro had insisted they get because he was particular like that). Then Shiro sets their food on the table while Keith pours the coffee (black for him, sugar and milk for Shiro). They settle in; Aya starts to shove her fingers into her food; Shiro moves her hands away with well-practiced movements as he tries to get her to open her mouth.

For a moment, Keith just watches them both, and thinks,  _ this is real.  _ Both of them, Shiro and Aya, they’re real and they’re  _ here,  _ this love is real. All of this -- Shiro in the middle of the night, humming the song from Tarzan to quiet Aya down when he cries; Aya taking her first steps towards him, small hands reaching for him, tiny babbling noises; coming home to Shiro and Aya taking a nap in their bed, Shiro snoring softly and Aya drooling -- all of this is real. And he gets to keep it in his life.

“Keith?” He snaps out of his daze when Shiro calls his name, looking at him with a wry smile. Aya’s stolen the spoon for him and is mashing it into her baby food, with tiny burbles of laughter. Keith shakes his head and grins sheepishly.

“Sorry.” He takes a sip from his coffee and reaches across to pry the spoon from Aya’s fingers, gives it back to Shiro. He taps Aya’s nose with a finger when she pouts.

All these things, everything, it’s real. And he gets to keep it.

The apartment is small, but it’s warm.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Come find me on Twitter as [@okw_tr](http://twitter.com/okw_tr) and Tumblr as [yurochkas](yurochkas.tumblr.com) for more Sheith/VLD content. You can check there for ways to support my writing as well ^_^


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